


You're only as human as your blood

by Drifter (lightworlddrifter)



Series: Human Smeets [3]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, M/M, angst? probably, i am not a scientist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightworlddrifter/pseuds/Drifter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Throughout the years, Zim and Dib have grown closer, even if they didn't realize it. Slowly, the cracks begin to form in Dib's 'human' life, and he discovers that perhaps he and Zim have more in common than either of them suspected. Part 2a of Human Smeets AU, ZaDr. Cross posted on ff.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dib was always curious. If he knew something, he wanted to know more, and if he didn't know something, he  _needed_  to learn it. He knew, somewhere in the back of his young mind, that his mother had fostered that curiosity in him, and he was grateful to her for that. Even if he couldn't  _quite_  remember her. He remembered her voice, and the sandwiches she made him and Gaz for lunch, but she died when he was too young to remember much else.

Every now and then Dib would say, or do something in such a way that reminded his father  _so_  much of his mother that the Professor would leave the house and not come back for days at a time. Dib didn't realize this, though. It was just his dad being his dad, and having yet another genius scientific breakthrough.

Dib would never describe his life as extraordinary. Merely unfortunate. He loved aliens and the paranormal, but his Dad and sister never really took him seriously. He could deal with that, though. One day he'd have proof, then they'd all see how right he'd been. If you asked Dib to pinpoint the beginning of his alien obsession, he'd be hard pressed to tell you. He would simply shrug and say it had been his passion all his life. It was true enough; His mother taught him a lot about space before she died when he was four. Enough to instill a life long passion in the young boy.

Dib didn't remember why, exactly, he had decided to spend every Sunday night on the roof, listening for alien transmissions. It was simply something to do, a way to pass the time, even if most nights yielded nothing but the dull roar of space.

There was nothing about this particular Sunday that would indicate to him that it would be any different. He climbed out on the roof, like always, and opened up his laptop, like always. He'd had it for years, but it was still better functioning than any other computer on the market, so he didn't complain. According to his dad, Mom had built it for him when he was a baby. She was an exceptionally talented scientist, Dib knew. She had to have been, for Dad to fall in love with her.

After pressing a few buttons on the side of the computer, the hidden satellite dish bloomed out of the laptops casing, and with a little fidgeting he pointed it towards the sky. If he had to guess, it was the discovery of this little hidden dish that prompted him to start listening in for alien signals beyond the stars. He had only discovered it a few short months ago,. That was another thing he loved about his computer- he was discovering new things about it nearly every day.

On the surface, Dib didn't really expect to garner much form listening in on the interstellar white noise. But somehow, he knew, deep down, that he had to do it. One night, the night that everything changed, he actually managed to tune in on a frequency. According to the computer, it was broadcasting from only about half a lightyear away, and it was broadcasting  _live?_  He was very startled when the readout in the corner of his screen calculated a mere 10 second delay between the origin of the transmission and what he was receiving.  _Amazing!_  he had never dreamed that his computer would be advanced enough to pick something up, let alone a  _live transmission_. He was so caught up in  _actually finding something_  that he forgot to hit record, and only caught the last few seconds of the transmission. He didn't have to hear the whole thing to get the gist of it-  _they were coming._

Dib ran downstairs in a flurry of excitement to inform his father that  _invasion was imminent!_  Unfortunately, the professor ignored him in favor of making toast. Receiving that transmission, though, that was when he knew that his life was about to change forever. Perhaps, for the better, even. He certainly hoped so.

By the time  _Zim_  had shown up in Ms. Bitters' class, Dib had nearly forgotten about the Irken transmission he received nearly six months ago. He knew as soon as the green kid stepped in the room that he was an  _alien_. How could the other kids not  _see_  it? Dib was at a complete loss.

Something stirred inside him, in his very bones, that said  _challenge_  and refused to be ignored. Zim, oddly enough, felt it too. He couldn't say how, or why, but this  _human worm_  would be his greatest challenge.

The two spent several years locked in eternal battle. On the occasion Dib obtained proof of Zim's extraterrestrial origin, Zim would do his best to eliminate it. Once, he built a microscopic sub and infiltrated Dib's body for the purpose of destroying a video Dib had taken of the inside of his base. To Zim's great relief, the human boy was in possession of an arm control nerve. He had briefly been worried that the human nervous system would be entirely different from the Irken one, and he would have to figure out some other way of controlling the human's limbs.

As time went on, the battles became less  _life or death,_  less  _fate of the earth,_  and more a matter of petty revenge and pride. Especially after the whole  _Santa_  debacle. Though, things between the two had started calming down even before that.

Instead of a new plot to take over the earth every day, it became a new plot every week. Then every month, where it stayed since then. Most of the time, Zim's plots focused less on actually taking over the earth, and more on sparring with Dib. Though they would never admit it to each other, they both enjoyed the mental excercise their childish game of chase provided, and neither one knew how to live without the other.

The next major change in their routine happened when Dib was 15. It was a friday afternoon, school was out, and Dib was working in the garage on Tak's ship, his computer linked up through a cable, running diagnostics on the cloaking device. It had stopped working during his return trip from the moon, and he couldn't risk taking it out again until that was repaired. Over the years, Dib had become increasingly good with Irken technology. He found it was easier to use and fix than most Earth tech. The only thing he could operate as intuitively as he could Irken ships and weaponry was his own laptop, and that was only because his computer was custom-built and he had all his life to learn it.

He was just about to open up the ship's control panel and reattached the loose wires indicated by the scan when there was an angry pounding on the garage door. Dib rolled his eyes. There was only  _one_ person it could be. His Dad never came out here, and Gaz wouldn't have knocked.

"It's unlocked, Zim," Dib shouted, not even bothering to glance up as he popped off the panel and shoved his arm into the tangle of wires.

The garage door was flung open, and there stood the little bug in all his cleverly disguised glory. He took two steps inside, and stood up as straight as possible in a vain attempt to appear taller. Dib glanced at him just long enough to roll his eyes before returning to the wires, waiting for him to begin his latest spiel.

"Hello,  _Dib,"_  he spat, only just louder than was reasonable necessary.

When he didn't automatically continue, Dib looked up from his work soldering the wires with a pen laser. "What do you want,  _Zim?"_  The venom in Dib's voice was merely a formality. He knew that if Zim hadn't pulled something yet, then he wouldn't pull something at all. Besides, Dib had already foiled Zim's latest plot two weeks ago, and as per the unwritten rules of their engagement, there wouldn't be another one for at least another week and a half.

"Your," Zim started, " _filthy_   _hyumen_  presence is required at my base." He had hunched over and twitched a bit at 'filthy human,' but had recovered quickly enough.

Dib sighed, and shoved the wires back in the console. Zim was in one of his  _moods_. His tone was one that said ' _comply NOW or I'll ruin whatever you're working on_ ' and left no room for argument. This was the first time he used that tone to request Dib showed up at his base, however. "Just give me a sec," Dib said as he started to climb out of Tak's ship.

"NOW, we leave NOW," shouted Zim. He stomped over and grabbed Dib by the wrist, practically dragging him out of the garage. It was a bit awkward, considering that at five feet, nine inches Dib towered nearly a foot over Zim.  _Hasn't grown an inch since 5th grade and people_ still _believe his human act,_  Dib mused at the little green bug pulled him along the street.

Once inside Zim's base, he roughly shoved Dib onto the couch, before sitting down in the lounge chair with a  _ hrumph. _  Gir was seated next to Dib, little legs dangling off the couch. "Hi Mary!" shouted the little robot by way of greeting. Dib waved back half heartedly in return. "I got us a pizza!" Sure enough, on the coffee table sat the largest, greasiest pepperoni Bloaty's offered.

"Gir  _insisted_ ," grumbled Zim, motioning to the pizza, "that we invite you over for pizza."

"Uh-huh," Dib said, slowly. He was as confused as Zim was irritated.

"Well?" he said, an eye opening wide and antennae twitching under his wig.

"Well what?" Dib asked.

"Eat, you idiotic pig beast,  _eat_!" Zim was fuming in his seat. He didn't  _have_  to be so kind as to let Dib into  _his_  base.

Dib raised an eyebrow. "How do I know it's not poisoned?"

It was a fair question, to which Zim replied by throwing his wig on the floor in frustration and grabbing a slice of the pizza. He shoved it in his mouth, and shouted at Dib around gooey mouthfuls of cheese. "There! See! It's perfectly fine now  _eat!"_

Dib shrugged, and grabbed a slice, Gir already munching away next to him. "Why am I here again?" he asked after a few bites.

" _Because_ ," Zim started, "It was either appease Gir and tolerate your presence,  _or_  refuse and watch that idiotic robot make a mess of things."

If it were anyone else but Zim, Dib would have suspected he was just making an excuse to spend time with him. Besides, it was only a one-time thing. Gir probably  _was_  harassing Zim for not inviting his ' _bestest  friend'_ over. It wasn't like it was the first time it had happened. Though usually it involved less food, and more attempts on Dib's life.

Next week, Zim showed up at Dib's garage yet again, demanding he return for yet another ' _pizza ritual.'_  The week after that, Gir himself retrieved Zim and Dib directly from school. By the fourth week, the two boys had unofficially developed the 'Pizza Truce.' If Dib ever didn't show up, Gir would take it upon himself to harass the boy until he did, and if Zim decided to hide in his base, Gir would just take Dib to him. They both decided it was easier to comply with the psychotic robot's demands than to argue with him. If nothing else, it meant one more night where both boy's knew the other wasn't able to work on some grand scheme or counterplot.

Neither boy was sure how, but eventually Pizza Truce Night turned into 'Gossip Hour' at Zim's. Maybe it was because neither boy had many friends. Zim didn't need any, and Dib was too obsessed with the green kid to make time for them.

"You mean to say she actually followed  _you_  home!?" Zim laughed after Dib finished regaling him with one of the few romantic overtures he received.

"I  _know_ ," said Dib, shoving another slice of pizza in his mouth. "I thought Gretchen figured I was being sarcastic, but apparently not!" On that particular day, Zim had been out of school for about a week, and the hot gossip was it was because he and Dib had broken up (the hotter gossip being that they were dating in the first place). Gretchen had taken that as an opportunity to confess her feelings to which Dib replied,  _If you_ really _like me, you'll hold my tools while I work on fixing the alien space craft in my garage_ , figuring it was just another false confession to make him look bad.

They fell into an easy silence after that, Zim munching on some Irken chips and Dib sipping a Poop cola.

During the pause in conversation, Dib noticed a soft whirring coming from Zim's PAK. It was the third time this week he heard it, though it was the first time they weren't in the middle of a fight. "Your PAK is really loud," Dib pointed out.

Zim's good mood was spoiled by that single innocuous comment. "What's it to you,  _hyumen ,"_ Zim spat defensively, antennae flattening against his head.

Dib shrugged, "Just thought you ought to know."

"Of course I know! It's  _my_  PAK, how could I not know!" Zim crossed his arms, and tried to look unbothered by the information. He didn't really succeed.

"Let me look at it," Dib insisted. He knew it couldn't be good for a PAK to be that loud. In all the years he'd known Zim, it never once made a sound.

"NEVER!" Zim shouted, jumping up onto his chair and displaying the appropriate amount of protectiveness over his very source of life.

"C'mon, Zim," Dib whined from his place on the couch. "It's Pizza Truce Night," he raised a slice of their usual greasy, fatty pizza to accent his point. "Just take me down to the labs and let me have a look."

Zim lowered himself back down into his seat and remained quiet for a few moments. He knew Dib was right to be worried. Audible whirring was the first indicator of trouble in an Irken PAK. He was only 158 years old though! Too young for such complications.

"You won't even have to take it off," Dib said in his most reassuring tone. Zim  _hated_  when Dib used that tone. It reminded him too much of Almighty Tallest Miyuki, before he accidentally killed her. Zim was thankful Dib only ever brought it out once or twice and  _only_  during their Pizza Truce Nights. He wasn't sure how he would react to it if Dib pulled it out while they were fighting. Tallest Miyuki was the closest thing Zim had to a mentor, after all. It wouldn't do for his enemy to be borrowing her voice.

"URGH! Fine!" Zim conceded. he grabbed Dib by the wrist and dragged him to the night stand entrance next to the TV. The two of them rode the hoverdisk down to the lab. After hopping off, Dib waltzed over to the PAK maintenance work bench like he owned the place. Zim wouldn't be surprised if he had the schematics of his whole base memorized. In fact, Zim expected nothing less, as he himself knew every corner of Dib's own labs back home. Well,  _most_  ever corner, but the point still stood.

Dib shrugged off his coat, and reached up to grab one of the low hanging cords that contained PAK maintenance tools, his intimidating height allowing him to easily do so. Grumbling under his breath, Zim hopped up onto the counter, his back facing to Dib.

"Open up, space boy," Dib said, and Zim begrudgingly complied, willing the maintenance hatch on his back open.

Zim was ashamed to admit that this wasn't the first time he and Dib had done this. Zim had problems with his PAK before, but they just got worse after the human  _tainted it_  with his filthy human genetics a few years back, while Zim was separated from it. He was just glad that somehow, Dib was miraculously good with Irken technology. He never would have guessed it if he had to judge by how laughably terrible Dib was at working with the computers at school, but Zim never really questioned it anymore. Dib was probably the only person Zim would trust to perform maintenance on his PAK. Excluding himself, of course.

Zim felt Dibs hands plucking round and changing wires. "Looks like your hormone regulator's busted," Dib muttered. "Your adrenalin equivalent isn't filtering properly."

 _Well shit,_  Zim thought.  _It's a good thing Dib was here after all._  Zim realized that he could have easily poisoned his own body if that was left unchecked.

Zim felt Dib's confident hands solder here and weld there. The human boy's actions caused phantom sensations to flare up where the nerves interfaced with Zim's PAK, but it wasn't painful, merely uncomfortable.

Dib had made it a point to learn about Irken PAKs after swiping a copy of the data on them from Tak's ship and Zim's computer. Dib didn't want a repeat of the brief time Zim's PAK had accidentally attached itself to him- it was like having Zim crawling around in his brain, and he would do whatever he could to prevent that from happening. And if he learned a few maintenance tricks here and there, then so what? Zim had saved his skin more times than Dib would care to admit, and if he could pay it back then where was the harm in that?

Dib removed his hands from his enemy's back, and slammed the maintenance hatch shut. "Good as new," he declared.

Zim grumbled something along the lines of 'took you long enough,' and both boys returned upstairs to finish their pizza before going their separate ways for the night, each one planning to plot the other's doom in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to part 2a of the Human Smeets AU. I say 2a, because there will also be a 2b, focusing on Gaz and Tak. This is not 2b, however, but 2a, and thus, the FOCUS REMAINS on Zim and Dib. I promise you that wasn't nearly as redundant in my brain, but the point still remains.
> 
> You won't need 2b to enjoy this (much like you won't need this to enjoy 2b, hence why it's 2a/b and not 2/3) BUT if you haven't already, please pop on over and read "Science Knows No Bounds," which is part 1 of the Human Smeets AU, and is necessary if you want to understand Dib and Gaz's BULLSHIT PSEUDOSCIENCE BIOLOGY. I am an education major, not a scientist. Cross posted on AO3
> 
>  
> 
> also, if you could comment or give kudos, that'd be great! even if ur comments are full of terrible, horrifically bad things, i want to hear them! also i like seeing the number because i have a minor narcissistic complex. That is a thing which may or may not be not false.
> 
> also also, please feel free to toss suggestions in the comment box as well. I don't really have much a clue where I'm going with this (miyuki's pak's involved? maybe? space opera? dib 'I AM NOT HUMAN' angst? more momyuki undertones? idek yo) SO if there's something you want to see, toss it down there, and I'll try to incorporate it. If I can't, I'll probably write a separate one shot for it!


	2. Chapter 2

Today was the day Dib turned 16- he had been looking forward to this birthday in particular, because his dad actually had time off from work! It was only for a few hours in the evening, but it was still enough. Dib had already decided that he would occupy himself that day with hacking into the hidden partition he discovered on his laptop just before Zim showed up. According to his dad, the partition was set up by his mom before she died, and unfortunately he was never told the access codes. (This was a lie; Professor Membrane knew the access codes by heart, but Dib did not need to know that. Dib did not need access to those files at all, as far as he was concerned.)

Between foiling Zim’s plans, working on Tak’s ship, and conducting his own paranormal investigations, it was hard for Dib to find any time to work on it until recently. Thanks to the Pizza Night Truce, Dib found it was easiest to work on hacking the partition during the lulls in conversation at Zim’s base. Zim refused to be of any help, citing an unwillingness to deal with _inferior hyumen technology_ , but Dib didn’t really mind all that much- this was his project, his code to crack. In a way, it was the last link he had to his mom, and he wanted to be able to prove to her that he wasn’t a failure, that he could do this, even if she was no longer around to witness his triumph.

 _Today’s the day,_ Dib thought as he diligently worked on bypassing the security around the partition. _Today’s the day I make it in_.  He could feel it, he was _so close_. Years of working on and off were finally going to come to fruition. After several hours of constant work since sunrise, the computer let out a gentle _Ping!_ as a way to inform Dib of his success.

“I did it,” Dib said quietly. He could hardly believe it. He had _hoped_ he would make it in today, but he never _dreamed_ he actually would. No matter how confident he was, he knew his mom was one of the smartest scientist on the planet- she had to have been, for Dad to even look her way twice. And here he was, having cracked her code. “ _I did it!”_ he exclaimed again, if only to make it seem more _real_. Were he a few years younger, he would’ve stood up and did a victory dance around his room in that moment, but Dib was _sixteen_ , practically an adult- he was above such childish expressions of joy. (Though that didn’t stop him from throwing his arms in the air and giggling like a maniac for a few fleeting moments).

In excitement, Dib booted his computer into the partition. It loaded even faster than his main hard drive did, and once everything was up and running, he noticed a file in the bottom right corner.

It was a document titled ‘Read Me’ in Irken script. Dib could read the foreign characters fluently, as they were just a one to one cypher from the English alphabet (how that happened, Dib didn’t even want to think about). Curiosity peaked, Dib opened the document first, and began to read the blocky Irken letters that displayed on his screen. With each line, he felt his blood boil, rage building up inside him. There was only _one_ person who could be responsible for such a _cruel, heartless, joke._ There was only _one_ person who knew he was working on cracking the partition, and there was only _one_ person who had both access to his computer, and the skills to hack the partition first. _Zim._

Rage building to a crescendo inside him, Dib packed up his laptop and stormed out the door on the way to Zim’s base. It was only 12 in the afternoon, and Dib had foiled Zim’s plot last Tuesday, so there was no reason for the little bug to be expecting a visit from his nemesis.

How could Zim be so _insufferably inconsiderate?_ The space monster _knew_ how important this was to Dib, _knew_ that this was all he had left of his Mom. And yet he had to go and _ruin_ it. And for what? A _petty joke?_ Dib thought Zim was better than that, thought they’d moved on from cruel pranks. He thought that the only reason they fought any more was as a way of testing each other, not to truly cause harm, emotional or otherwise. Apparently, Dib had thought wrong.

He reached his enemy’s base in record time, nimbly dodging the security gnomes on his way up to the front door- he was in _no_ mood for childish games right now.

“ _ZIM!”_ he banged on the door three times, and waited, fuming. He knew his enemy would answer- this was a break in the routine, and Dib knew Zim well enough to know that a break in the routine would be investigated. Of course, Zim should have _known_ this was coming. Did the idiot think Dib would just swallow the lies he loaded onto Dib’s computer? If yes then Zim was stupider than Dib thought. For a fully grown adult, Zim could be so _vindictive_ and _childish_. Perhaps that was why his leaders sent him on a mission at the far reaches of space- he was too annoying to allow anywhere closer.

Zim cracked open the door, his disguise hastily thrown on, and glanced up at the human boy on his stoop. “What?” he angrily barked. Zim had been in the middle of something important- and now here he was, being interrupted by his idiotic nemesis.

Dib stormed past Zim into his base before throwing himself down on the couch and angrily opening his laptop on the coffee table. Zim just stood in the door, dumbfounded by Dib’s forwardness as Dib gestured to the open computer and shouted, “Explain,” with such malice that it left no room for argument.

Zim cautiously closed the door, and widened one eye to indicate his confusion. He crossed his arms with all the arrogance his little body could muster. “It’s your _styooopid_ earth computer,” he replied. “What about it?” Zim didn’t understand _why_ he should be explaining to Dib what was right in front of him. They both knew he brought it over to every one of their inane little meet-ups.

Dib groaned, anger turning to frustration. “Not the computer,” he said, continuing to gesture at the open screen. “What’s _on_ the computer!”

Zim casually stalked over to the couch and plopped down next to Dib, just close enough that he could lean over and read the human’s monitor. Whatever it was, it had Dib worked up in a tizzy, and Zim wasn’t really sure how much he liked that. After all, only _Zim_ was allowed to make Dib angry.

Pulled up on the screen was a document written entirely in Irken script. Zim found this unusual, because even though through some miracle English and Irken were exactly the same, their written alphabet was completely different, and Earth computers had to be heavily modified to display the blocky script correctly.

With great care, Zim silently read the text displayed on the screen.

> _Smallest Dib,_
> 
> _If you are reading this then I suppose congratulations are in order- you have successfully broken into the partition on your computer. Even if you personally were not the one to break the code, the fact that you even had the resources to try is commendable, and I regret that I am not there to witness such a feat._
> 
> _By this point I can only assume I have been dead for many years, which I deeply regret. I sincerely doubt you’ll break into this during the week I have left, and even if you could I know for a fact Irken script is far below your reading level, little one. I can only hope your father continues your lessons on the written form of your mother tongue. Though Irkens are not known for raising their young, I would be lying if I didn’t admit I had a fondness for you or your clutchmate. Externally, the two of  you may be human smeets, but you were both mine all the same._
> 
> _Your father and I worked very hard to create you, and I can only hope he is doing well in my absence. When you were younger, I taught you a few of the things found in the databases on this partition, but I know that you still have so much to learn. I hope that you use this information to become the strategist I know you are capable of becoming._
> 
> _It is disappointing that I will not be there with you when you crush your first enemy, and I will not be there to take you or the Gaz-smeet out among the stars, where you both belong. I hope that terrestrial life is treating you kindly, and I hope that your clutchmate is protecting you from all but herself and your own folly, as she was designed to. It is not the Irken way to merely hope for things, but I know I do not have long enough to guarantee that things work out the way they should._
> 
> _Dib-smeet, grow tall. Do what your father and I could not in my life time and build a ship to take you to faraway places- you deserve at least that much. Live your life in a way that no human or Irken could dream of, bound to no place, just as you are bound to no race._
> 
> _Your mother, Tallest Miyuki._

Once he was done reading, Zim glanced up from the document, contact covered eyes narrowed in Dib’s direction. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked. The document on the computer had cleared nothing up- in fact , he was even more confused on why Dib was mad at him.  _Dib_ was the one who was slandering the name of his deceased mentor with made up fairy tales.

Dib matched the alien’s glare. “Oh very funny, Zim, play dumb all you want, but this is too far.”

“ _Too far!?”_ Zim stood from his place on the couch, throwing his hands in the air and accenting his speech with forceful stomps in an attempt to convey the sheer _fury_ he was feeling. “ _Zim_ wasn’t the one who _desecrated_ the name of his _dead mentor_ for a childish _prank_!”

In response, Dib stood up, lording his height over Zim in a way he knew would tick the alien off. “Are you saying _I_ did this?” He huffed immaturely, Zim’s display making him feel eleven years old again. “You _knew_ how important this partition was,” he jabbed a finger at the alien’s chest before continuing. “You _knew_ this was all I had left of her!” Dib crossed his arms and stood up even straighter as Zim curled in on himself in an expression of unspeakable rage. “Talk about _desecration.”_

“ _Urgh,_ of all the _idiotic_ ,” Zim clenched his fists at his sides. “What does ZIM care about your idiot human mother! Zim wouldn’t be caught dead touching your _filthy_ computer, and yet you blame _me_ for spouting up such _lies?_ I would never dishonor Tallest Miyuki that way!”

Dib turned on his heel, “Aha!” he said, pointing down at the green bug, “So it _was_ you!”

“Zim said no such thing!” He could feel his antennae twitching under his wig. Why did he even bother with a disguise to answer the door anyway? It was only Dib, and it wasn’t like the neighbors hadn’t seen him out of disguise before. Zim was just glad they were too stupid to notice.

“Then how did you know it said Tallest Miyuki, huh, _Zim_?” Dib looked smug, like a lawyer catching a defendant in a lie.

“Because I read your idiotic note, pathetic stink-beast!” Zim screeched. It was a good thing the base’s walls were sound proof.

“ _My_ note?” Dib said indignantly. “Why would _I_ write that useless drivel?”

Zim huffed. “Well if _you_ didn’t write it, and _Zim_ didn’t write it, then _who did?_ Certainly _not_ Tallest Miyuki! Which means you _had_ to have written it! What other explanation is there!?”

Dib paused once Zim’s words sunk in. If what he’s saying _was_ true, then that would mean… Mean what, exactly? But there was no way. His dad didn’t even _believe_ in aliens.  Zim could be out of his disguise, literally orbiting Dib’s head in the voot crusier and Professor Membrane still wouldn’t acknowledge the existence of aliens. And now Dib was expected to believe that his dad let one _live in the house?_ Ridiculous! Dib started laughing, slowly at first, at the sheer ludicrousy of it all.

He sat down on the couch, all the anger and frustration falling off of him in waves. _Ha ha ._ It was like a dam broke, and all at once Dib started cackling madly on the couch of his best enemy, his worst friend.

“What?” Zim asked, confused at Dib’s sudden mood swings. This was the kind of thing he’d expect from _himself_ not _Dib_. _“_ What’s so funny?”

He walked up to Dib, who was still ignoring Zim in his fit of laughter, and started poking the human in the shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.” Each word was accented by another sharp jab to Dib’s arm.

Eventually, Dib was able to take a deep breath and regain his composure, but not before Zim had stabbed at his arm seven more times. “ _You_ didn’t write this, Zim,” he explained.

“That’s what Zim has been _trying_ to _tell_ you.” Zim crossed his arms, satisfied at having the child’s attention, but still not understanding what could possibly be so _hilarious._ Maybe Dib really _was_ as insane as everyone said he was.

“ _I_ didn’t write this,” Dib continued.

Zim quirked an unseen antenna. “Let’s say I _believe_ you- _which I don’t_ ,” he started. “That would make your,” Zim shuddered, “ _Momdroid-“_ Zim couldn’t even get out the words, it was too unfathomable. “That’s absolutely _ridiculous!”_

That sent Dib into another peal of laughter. “I _know_ , right?” Dib exclaimed.

Understanding the hilarity of the situation sent Zim into a fit of cackling alongside Dib. “ _You?_ A hybrid of-“ Zim couldn’t even finish the thought before another wave side splitting laugher hit them both.

“ _I know!”_ Dib found the idea equally farfetched. He was as human as anyone else. He could barely breathe, he was laughing so hard.

Zim braced himself on the table to keep from falling over. “Computer!” Zim managed to bark out, “Run a diagnostic scan on the human,” he gestured to Dib without looking up, his wig slowly sliding out of position as a result of his doubled over posture.

A large coiled wire descended from the ceiling and began to scan Dib. This only caused him to laugh even louder- what was Zim expecting to gain from the scan? Conformation that Dib was human? Something they both knew, something they both had _known_ since Dib was eleven!

“ _Scan Completed_ ,” the computer dryly relayed.

Zim calmed himself just enough to demand the computer print the results, which he quickly snatched from a cable that had snaked down to deliver them. He wiped a tear from his eye so he could read the printout clearly, but what he saw caused all the mirth to drain from his body. After noticing Zim’s quick change in mood, Dib sobered up as well.

“What’s wrong?” Dib asked, not so much out of genuine concern for his nemesis, but more out of worry for what that little scan said about him. He expected Zim to return to his usual boisterous self at any moment, _Ah Ha!_ Zim would say. _You fell for my BRILLIANT trick!_ But no such proclamation came. Dib straightened up as Zim moved to sit down on the couch, staring off into space.

 “Go home, Dib,” Zim whispered. Of course, whispering for Zim was the normal volume for most people, so Dib had no problems hearing him.

“What?” Dib asked, confusion coloring his voice.

“Get out,” Zim replied. “Zim needs space to think without your enormous head clogging up my base.”

Dib opened his mouth to ask if everything was alright, but he was cut off by Zim’s sharp bark of _Leave. Now!_ Dib decided that it wasn’t a battle worth fighting, so he grabbed his computer and stalked out the door.

Dib knew Zim was moody, but jeez, overreact much? What could be so surprising about a bioscan that proved him to be 100%, unquestionably… human… Realization hit Dib like a ton of bricks. The _only_ reason Zim would have clammed up so quickly would be if… If Dib _wasn’t_ human... If the mystery prank letter was actually legitimate, and not something cooked up by either Zim or an unknown third party…

But that _couldn’t_ be. Dib’s mom wasn’t even _named_ Miyuki! At least, he was pretty sure… Now that he really thought about it, he wasn’t sure if he even _knew_ his mother’s name. Dibs mood was somber, a far cry from the pure rage he felt not even an hour ago. He, like Zim, needed time to think. If the note on the computer was legitimate, then that would mean everything he ever thought to be true was a lie.

Zim, for his part, wasn’t really taking the news much better. After Dib left, he threw off his wig and violently tore out his contacts, not taking the usual care in their removal. The Dib-human wasn’t _human_. What did that even _mean?_ That would explain the little inconsistencies in his biology after Zim learned a bit more about the average human, but Zim had just assumed that was some sort of accidental mutation, not a purposeful component of his being.

And if what Dib’s little note said was true, that he wasn’t just anyone’s offspring. He was _Tallest Miyuki’s._ But Dib was only, what, 16, he said? And Tallest Miyuki had been dead for well over 50 years. Zim had _killed her_ , albeit accidently. That meant there was a time when his mentor was still alive in an unknown part of the galaxy. And Zim had done _nothing_.

Tallest Miyuki was _Zim’s_ mentor. The closest Irken equivalent to human parents. And all this time, Tallest Miyuki was out here, playing house with a bunch of monkeys. Zim would have to do more tests before he could accept that Dib’s DNA donor was indeed Tallest Miyuki, but for the time being Zim could admit that there was more to Dib than he initially thought.

In a way, it was a relief to Zim. Irken genetics made Dib a member of a _superior_ race, which made him an even more _worthy_ rival for Zim. For a while, Zim was worried that he was losing his edge. What kind of invader was he if he could find an admirable challenge in an inferior life form? But Dib wasn’t so inferior, wasn’t so weak. Which meant Zim could push him harder, was _obligated_ to push him harder. What kind of nemesis would he be if he didn’t? Not a very good one, that was for sure.

Dib ended up holed away in his room for the rest of the day until Professor Membrane called him down for cake. Not really expecting an answer, Dib mustered enough courage to ask his dad what Mom’s name was.

To his surprise, Membrane replied, “Miyuki. Her name was Miyuki.” While Dib was glad for the rare straight answer to a question concerning his mother, he wasn’t sure if it put him at ease. Miyuki wasn’t exactly a common name. It could’ve been any other name, but…  for the first time since he broke into the partition, Dib admitted to himself that there must be some truth to what he found there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first thought of this au there were four main ideas running through my brain: One, Membrane saying that Dib and Gaz's mother was very tall, two, Dib being obnoxiously good with Irken tech, and three, this scene right here. There are a few others, but they wont be showing up until later down the line. Or else I run the risk of everything happening TOO FAST. The fourth one is Gaz knowing everything from the start, but im kinda at a loss for how to start her and tak's arc just yet.
> 
> same as before, if there's anything in particular you'd like to see, send me a pm or toss it in a comment. im kinda terrible at coming up with filler. for those of you reading this in the far off future, this is still relevant. if it's ever not, ill edit it out of here. hello, 2016. yes im looking at you.
> 
> also also i found out i can go to invadercon iii next weekend wow so exciting. cripes long a/ns are annoying IM annoying. bleh, ill get outta ur hair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7/24/14 edit: someone on ff.net pointed out that the end of this chapter and the beginning of the enxt didn't really work well together, and i completely agree. sooo i changed the last paragraph of this chapter. I like it a LOT better than what was there, yea

Neither Dib nor Zim mentioned the Miyuki incident to each other after that. When they were together, they both pretended it never happened. Dib stopped bringing his laptop to their Truce nights, and instead spent time watching inane cartoons with Gir. Zim would sometimes stare blankly at Dib, trying to figure out how it was even possible forthe twerp to even be partially Irken, but he was at a loss.

Irken hybrids were  _so_  rare, considering they couldn't naturally occur, but if the Irken parentage was someone respected, and of high rank, then their alien offspring was given full rights under Irken law. Unlike most species, Irkens didn't see hybrids as inferior because of their foreign DNA, but rather, as equal. To claim a hybrid, rare though they were, wasn't as good as any Irken simply because they had non-Irken DNA would be claiming that Irken DNA wasn't  _so superior_  as to cancel out any of the inferior genetics.

While they may not be as great as full Irkens, that didn't make them any less  _amazing._  There was a reason Irkens were superior throughout the galaxy, and it was simply because they were just so  _great_  that adding them to anything instantly made it better. Granted, Dib's hybrid status wouldn't get him an  _in_ , if you will, to any Irken military outposts or leadership positions, however, it  _would_  give him certain protections under galactic law. Namely, the worst the Irken military could do to him was banish him- he was too tall to be legally thrown out of an airlock, and Zim was actually kind of… glad for that.

Here he was, his nemesis not an inferior species as he initially suspected, but rather a member of one of the greatest races in the history of the universe. Zim would no longer have to feel shame should he decide to admit that _his_  greatest enemy was an earth native, simply because Dib was none other than the smeet of Tallest Miyuki- and that  _was_  what Dib was. Zim had run the tests himself, there was no doubting it, no ignoring it, not anymore, at least.

For Dib's part, he was taking the information fairly well. If by fairly well, you meant doing his best to ignore it, then yes, he was taking the information  _extremely_  well. He spent most nights plowing through the Irken database on his computer. Some of the information was vaguely familiar to him, some he already had via Tak's ship and Zim's base, and some was completely new. It was exciting- having access to a wealth of alien knowledge, as long as he didn't think too hard about where it came form or what it meant for him.

He wasn't like his father- Dib didn't ignore the existence of extraterrestrials in the hopes that his disbelief would make them any less real, however Dib didn't go out of his way to acknowledge his alien parentage, even to himself. Were his mother  _any other_  alien species, Dib would have been  _delighted_. But she wasn't. She was the enemy. Or rather, the former leader of the enemy. Dib wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. Zim's lingering stares when they were together didn't really help the matter.

Sometimes, when Dib used a certain tone of voice, or tapped his pen against his chin deep in thought, he would catch Zim just… staring at him. Dib wondered what was going through the alien's thick skull, while Zim wondered how he never noticed the similarities in Dib and Tallest Miyuki's mannerisms. It was just  _so obvious_  now.

Shortly after the life changing news, Dib decided that if he ever wanted a chance at normalcy, he was going to have to start  _acting_  normal. Which meant getting a job like every other kid in his grade. If he was going to keep protecting humanity, he had to  _become_  humanity. He used to think that just existing was the only requirements for being human, but his life had changed so much, his world was thrown upside down, he just  _couldn't,_  no he _wouldn't_  acknowledge that he had to  _work_  to be human anymore.

He was as human as his father, mother be damned, and he would prove it, even if only to himself.

That night Dib went and poured through job applications he had printed off the internet. He finally decided that the two  _least_  horrible places to work would be the Video Outhouse and MacMeaties. He started to fill them out on the couch in the living room, tapping his pen against his chin in thought. The first box sat blank, taunting him, with a small "LAST NAME" printed under it to indicate what the box was for.

Jeez, what  _is_ his last name? Dib didn't even know. As though via divine intervention, Dib's father happened to walk into the room just moments before Dib decided applying for jobs wasn't worth the trouble.

"Hey dad?" he asked

"Yes Son?" replied his father.

"What's my last name?" Dib felt sort of stupid for asking, but he wasn't really sure what else to do. He knew there wasn't a last name listed on his school records, but he didn't really question it until just now.

"Why, Membrane, of course!" his dad informed him with his usual gusto.

Dib looked at his father, confusion evident on his face. His vaguely felt his hair bristling the way it always did when he was confused, or angry, or frightened. "But isn't that your first name?"

"Yes, Son. Yes it is." His father's tone was relaxed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Dib shrugged and scribbled it down on the application anyway.

He didn't really expect to receive a call back after he turned in the applications- after all, he was  _barely_  16, and there were probably other, more qualified, applicants. But to his surprise, the very next day the Video Outhouse called.

"Are you  _Did Membrine?_ " asked the nasally teen on the other line.

Dib ignored the butchering of his name in favor of replying, "Yes that's right."

"This is Matthew Mathers from the Video Outhouse, we were wondering if you were free this, uhh," Matthew paused and Dib heard the shuffling of paper on a desk, "Saturday, for an interview?"

"Yes, of course," Dib said with a little more enthusiasm than he would care to admit.

"Alright, we'll see you then, Did," replied Matthew before he hung up the phone.

That Saturday, Dib found himself trekking towards the mall. It wasn't too far of a walk, only about 10 minutes past the skool, which was about 15 minutes from his house, but Dib would've rather drove. He briefly considered getting a learner's permit, so he could at least  _start_  driving, but then decided against it. The walk wasn't really  _too_  terrible, and if he ever  _really_  didn't feel like walking, he could always take Tak's ship. He repaired the cloaking device a while back, and besides, flying the Irken craft just felt so  _normal,_ so  _natural._  On second thought, Dib decided he would talk to his dad about getting a learner's permit next time he saw him.

The interview itself went well. Unsurprisingly, it was fairly casual, considering Matthew was Dib's age. He asked Dib the standard questions about what he would do if he caught someone shoplifting, or a coworker staling, along with some more specific to the store, like why he was interested in working there, and if he had an interest in a particular genre of film.

"Alright," said Matthew at the end of it, checking over the notes he made on his clip board. "Looks like everything works out, Did. When can you start?"

Dib honestly didn't expect to be hired right then and there, but he was glad for it (even if Matthew continually mispronounced his name). From that point onward, every day after school Dib would go to the mall, instead of home, to his part-time job at the Video Outhouse. Thankfully he managed to get Fridays off by promising to work the Sunday shift- Dib didn't even want to think what would happen if he tried to weasel out of the Pizza Truce Nights because of a job. Zim would probably do something stupid.

Zim, for his part, was a relatively good sport about the whole thing. He wasn't exactly the biggest fan of Dib's new 'job' because it meant that Dib had less time to work on countering his BRILLIANT schemes, but at least Dib was free on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. And during the school day, of course. Everything was fair game during school. Zim noticed, though, that even though Dib still had time to counter  _his_ schemes, Dib didn't really come up with plans of his own anymore.

Zim supposed it had been like that for a while, but he never really noticed it until Dib just didn't have time for him. Dib used to constantly come up with plans to expose Zim, and show him off to the world as proof that everything he said was right. It didn't really bother Zim; after all, the less time he had to spend countering Dib's plans, the more time he had to spend on his own. But lately, Zim felt like he was pulling all the weight of their relationships.

Most of the time, Dib didn't even have a proper counterplan. He just sort of winged it. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but when combined with the fact that he stopped actively trying to expose Zim (even if he had no _real_  intentions of doing so) it could be interpreted that Dib just didn't care about their rivalry anymore. Was that how Dib felt? It couldn't be- Dib would never find a better rival than Zim, and Zim knew that, but he still found himself feeling a bit… insecure.

It was all that  _styupid_  job's fault. If Dib had more free time, then he would at least be able to counter Zim's plots with some  _grace_  rather than fumbling around on the spot like a moron. Zim couldn't even fathom why Dib _got_  a job. His dad was rolling in earth monies, thanks to his breakthroughs in science, and even then, everything Dib ever mentioned wanting recently was a spare part for his ship that you couldn't just  _buy_  on earth. (And it _was_ Dib's ship, not Tak's. Tak had lost it during a fair fight, making her claim to it forfeit, but Dib still insisted on referring to it as  _hers.)_  Zim knew that Dib was more than capable of engineering ship parts from scrap metal and salvaged wires, so why Dib would even  _lower_  himself to a career as an entertainment renal drone, even temporarily, was beyond Zim.

If nothing else, Dib always let Gir use his employee discount, and always returned Gir's videos for him. Zim was glad he no longer had to deal with the mall security drones whenever he attempted to return a late DVD. Small blessings, Zim supposed.

A few uneventful weeks passed, when one Friday, during their weekly ritual, Dib entered Zim's house and practically collapsed face down on the couch.

"Ziiim," he whined.

Zim looked over his tablet at him from his spot on the chair, annoyed. "What, Dib-beast?"

Dib wriggled a bit to prop his head up on his arms so he could look up at Zim, his glasses slightly askew. "You hate me, right?"

Zim's antennae twitched, his skin darkening in the barest hints of a blush as he buried himself deeper into his tablet. "Yes, yes, of course I do," he said as he waved a hand in Dib's general direction and did his best to sound dismissive. Dib hadn't been  _that_  forward since seventh grade.

Dib buried his head in his folded arms and muttered out, "Then kill me,  _please_."

That certainly got Zim's attention. He set down his tablet, and lowered an incredulous glare at Dib. "Why would Zim do that?" Zim wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that Dib was just being dramatic and  _not_ making a pass at him.

"I hate my job," Dib groaned into his arms. After a moment, he turned his head to stare blankly at the powered down TV before continuing. "Everyone there is just  _so_  stupid I can't even deal with it anymore."

Zim could not  _believe_  how dramatic Dib was being. "You're the one who wanted the stupid job," he scoffed. "Zim doesn't understand why you even bother."

Dib huffed. "Zim, I'm sixteen now, I'm  _supposed_  to have a job."

Zim rolled his eyes. "Just because you're  _supposed_  to do something doesn't mean you  _have_  to."

Dib slumped even further, letting one arm hang lazily off the couch. "You don't even understand, Zim."

" _Zim_  doesn't understand?" Zim's antennae fell flush against his head as his eyes narrowed. "Oh, trust me,  _Zim_  understands."

"What does that even mean?" Dib mumbled.

"Zim was  _supposed_  to be banished to Foodcourtia," Zim explained, as he leaned forward and massaged his temples. "But Zim didn't like that, so he stopped."

Dib glanced over at Zim, one eyebrow raised. "You quit being banished?"

Zim grinned. "Of course I did." He leaned back into his seat. "It's like Zim said, just because you're  _supposed_  to do something, doesn't mean you  _have_  to."

Dib sighed. He supposed there was logic in Zim's statement, somewhere. But Zim just wouldn't understand. He just couldn't. For once, he really was far  _too alien_  to get it.

The little bug crossed his thin legs. "Now tell Zim," he said, "Why do you  _really_  want to keep this filthy job as a drone to the masses?"

Dib shrugged as best he could from his position on the couch. "I just want to feel normal, I guess."

"Well that's dumb," Zim scoffed. "You're far superior to those," he lazily waved a hand, " _mall peons."_  Zim let the ' _you're Irken_ ' hang silently. He knew Dib probably didn't hear it, probably didn't  _want_  to hear it, but Zim knew he'd have to own up to it eventually. He just wanted Dib to do it in his own time.

"Besides," Dib muttered, "It's not  _so_  bad. Some of the time." Slowly, he sat up before continuing, "At least it'll give me something good to put on a college application." Dib sort of regretted not having many extracurriculars to pad an application with, but he still had time. Not very much, considering all the effort he put into thwarting Zim, but time all the same.

With another eye-roll, Zim returned to his tablet. "Saving the Earth not good enough for the Higher Education drones?"

Dib smirked at that. "You know I can't put that on there. They'd never believe me."

Zim grinned inwardly when his sensitive antennae picked up the quietly whispered, ' _and I don't think I'd want them to.'_ Zim didn't think he could ask for a better nemesis.

In that moment, Zim vowed that he would do right by Dib. They would be the best pair of enemies Irk had ever known. Their hate would be the stuff of legend. But for that to happen, Zim would have to eliminate any sort of competition. Even if that competition  _was_  something as trivial as a  _job_.

For the next two weeks, while Dib toiled away at his minimum wage job, Zim worked tirelessly on a new mech. It wouldn't be anything  _too_  fancy, just something fancy enough to make all the mall drones fear him, and to get Dib the respect he deserved when he inevitably defeated Zim.

Yes, this was probably one of Zim's greatest plans. For one, Dib would have no choice but to hate him more than his job, if for no other reason than his intrusion on his precious  _normalcy_. And for two, once everyone saw how  _great_  Dib was, they would stop distracting him, leaving Dib free to spend more time focusing on Zim. Yes, it was a perfect plan, yeees, indeed.

The robot itself was modeled off of some megadoomer schematics he  _borrowed_  from the Irken technology database. It was considerably smaller, though, to make it  _slightly_  less conspicuous and so that it used less power, meaning it wouldn't have to be plugged in.

It lacked many of the bells and whistles, with no guns or cloaking technology. Zim wanted to cause a scene, more so than pose a threat. And cause a scene he did.

The robot itself was short enough to make it through the high arch doors of the mall's main entrance, but tall enough to tower at least a foot over the heads of the tallest humans. Zim decided on wearing his old man disguise- he didn't want anyone recognizing him from school, or as an alien. Anyone except for Dib, that is.

To the surprise of no one, most people ignored the chicken-legged mech stomping through the mall in favor of going about their usual business. At a steady pace, Zim marched to the entrance of the Video Outhouse at the other end of the mall.

"Dib!" he screeched with his usual fervor.

From his place at the checkout counter Dib muttered, "Oh no," he handed a woman her change as he forlornly glanced out the double doors to his left to see Zim, in all his poorly disguised glory. "Not  _here_ …"

He looked form Zim, to the line forming in front of him, to his manager Matthew stocking the shelves. "Hey, Matthew?" he shouted, leaning over the counter slightly.

Matthew paused in his stocking. "Yeah?"

"I'm going on break, take over for me?" Dib was already halfway out the door before Matthew could even reply.

The other teen merely sighed, set down the DVDs and took Dib's place behind the counter. "Have fun with your boyfriend," he muttered to no one.

Dib raced out in front of Zim, ready to begin their usual confrontation. "Zim, what is  _with_ you?" he shouted up at the mech.

Zim secretly relished in the fact that for once, he was taller than Dib. Even if it was only temporarily. "Prepare to be  _squished_  Dib-bug!" he shouted, one of the mech's legs rising as if to stomp on Dib's big head.

Dib shrieked and dodged out of the way in a smooth roll. On instinct, he started calculating the best defensible locations in the mall.  _Food court_  he realized.

He darted from kiosk to kiosk on the way to the food court, exchanging banter with Zim all the way. "Is attacking me at school not  _good_  enough for you anymore?" Dib asked as Zim cackled and knocked over a pretzel stand he was just behind. "You gotta come to my  _job_  too?"

"Admit it,  _Dib-worm_ ," Zim spat. "Zim is a formidable enemy!"

Dib rolled under a table, finally reaching the perimeter of his destination. "What?" Dib shouted.

" _Urgh_ ," Zim pulled down the sides of his pink hat in frustration. "Is that all you plan to do?" Zim crushed the table Dib just darted out from under, and began advancing towards Dib's next hiding place. " _Run away?"_

Zim was right, Dib realized. He couldn't keep dodging. He was just  _unprepared_. Dib  _knew_  they were due for a confrontation sometime this week, but he didn't think it'd happen at his  _job_. He looked around. There was a water fountain to his right along the perimeter of the building.  _It'll have to do_ , he thought to himself. He hoped that like every other public facility, they didn't use filtered water. If they did, Zim would just be wet and angry, rather than out of commission.

"Zim, just stop, ok?" he said, as he jumped over a booth to avoid yet another harsh stomp from Zim's robot. He was hoping Zim wouldn't notice he was making his way to the water fountain. "I'm tired of these stupid games!"

That really rubbed Zim the wrong way. Logically, he knew that Dib was probably trying to distract him. But that was just a really low blow. "Games!?" Zim snarled. "You think Zim's rivalry is a  _game!?_ " Zim was only even doing this  _for_  Dib! To get Dib out of his funk. And Dib had to just go and dismiss it like it was nothing!

Normally, Dib would have felt a sense of excitement from having Zim so riled up. Now he was just sad. This kind of interaction, it wasn't normal. He just wanted to be  _normal_.

"Zim," he snapped after somersaulting over to the water fountain, "just let me have a normal  _life!_  A normal  _day!_  Just  _once!"_

Zim cocked an antenna under his hat. "Normal? This  _is_  normal, Dib," he scoffed. "We're  _rivals._  It's expected!"

Zim's mech advanced on Dib while he stood defiantly next to the drinking fountain. As soon as Zim was close enough, Dib turned it on, and directed the spray towards Zim in a high arc.

Zim screeched and fell out of the open cockpit of his robot, clawing at his face. Having been unmanned mid-step, the robot became unbalanced, and began to fall to the left side.

At that moment, a brawny teen walked by, obliviously sucking on a poop cola. Dib panicked when he noticed that the robot was going to fall on him, and with a burst of speed, he tackled the kid out of the way, spilling his cola in the process.

"Are you alright?" Dib asked him as the robot crashed to the ground where the kid was just standing. He replied by standing up, kicking Dib in the gut, and walking away.

Zim dusted himself off while Dib lay on the ground, writing in pain. He crouched next to him. "Why do you even bother trying to save these peons, Dib?" Zim asked as he poked Dib in the side.

Dib groaned and sat up. "Because they're human, Zim. And I'm human too." He wiped some dirt off his face with his coat sleeve. "I owe it to them," he finished, eyes directed to the floor.

Zim scoffed. "We both know that's a load of dookie," he said.

Dib looked absolutely offended. "I was  _born_  here, Zim!" he argued.

"Hatched," Zim corrected smoothly.

"Whatever!" Dib threw his hands up in frustration. "Doing this," he gestured to the Video Outhouse T-shirt under his coat, "Menial jobs, it makes me feel normal! Makes me feel  _human!"_

Zim sat down next to Dib, listening boredly to the other boy's ranting. "I'm only as human as I feel anymore, Zim," Dib finished quietly.

"Oh, please!" Zim spat, rolling his eyes. He shoved Dib in the arm. "You're only as human as your blood, Dib!" He stood up, and offered Dib a hand, which the other boy took. "Deny it all you want, but the fact is Irken goo flows through your veins." Dib couldn't keep avoiding this. It was ruining their relationship, and if Dib wouldn't admit it to himself, then Zim would spell it out for him. "Embrace the goo, Dib!" Zim demanded.

Dib stared at Zim, wide eyed. It was the first time Dib had heard Zim mention his parentage out loud, and he just wasn't sure how he felt about it. "Look Zim," Dib began, "I gotta go back to work. I'll see you later."

Zim just stood there with his hands on his hips as he watched Dib stalk off back towards the Video Outhouse. The food court was a mess, but everyone ignored it in favor of returning to their meaningless lives. Irk, even  _Dib_ ignored it. Usually after that level of destruction Dib would have traded some harsher words with Zim. But he was just so  _mopey_  Zim didn't understand it.

He was getting fed up with Dib's mixed signals. It was ridiculous! Any self respecting Irken would at least say something if they didn't want to be enemies. Or kill the other party, which Dib had plenty of opportunities to do. The real problem was, Dib wasn't Irken, at least not as much as Zim would like to think he was. But he wasn't human either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, im not reely too shore how i feel aboat how this turned out. At least, i feel like this chapter ended kinda weak. Anyway, have some Irken romance headcanons in this chapter. Cause, y'kno, aliens. also, as i mentioned elsewhere, i am homestuck trash. that is still a thing. anyhow, the title of this fic is dropped in this chapter too. it was just some nonsense i spewed out when i realized that most fanfics actually need a title, and i decided it couldnt hurt to work it in.
> 
> im kinda runnin dry on chapter ideas too, so i might pop over and start tak and gaz's arc before i update this again. Same as always, if there's something you wanna see, lemmie kno, I'd gladly appreciate ideas yep.
> 
> also also, would you rather 2.5k+ word chapters with slower updates, or 1.5k+ word chapters with faster updates and possibly more cliffhangers?


	4. Chapter 4

 

Zim still found it difficult to grasp Dib's  _insolence_. After all Zim had done for him? Zim knew that the weedy boy wouldn't be the person he was today if it weren't for him. He would be weak, even with his  _superior_  genes. Dib lacks proper training, certainly, but that didn't mean he couldn't be whipped into shape, which Zim did his best to do. The  _nerve_ of that boy, to ignore Zim. And for what? A misguided attempt at human normalcy?

Truce Nights aside, Zim spent much of his time plotting the human's downfall. Except, he wasn't a human anymore, was he? Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he was never human in the first place. Zim knew instinctively something was  _off_  about Dib, after all how else could he have seen through Zim's  _brilliant_  disguise so quickly?

Just thinking about the boy sent the vascular pump component of his squeedly-spooch pumping in a way that only the heat of battle could stimulate. Irk, did he hate Dib. It was fated, meant to be, a match made by the control brains themselves.

And who should Dib's maternal donor be, but Tallest Miyuki herself! A mentor was the closest thing Irkens had to parents, and it was rare that a tallest would choose to mentor  _anyone_ , let alone an Irken barely out of smeethood. Miyuki taught him everything he knew when he went to work with the vortian scientists, and if it wasn't for her, Zim would never be as  _amazing_  at biological manipulation as he was. Unfortunately, Zim's talent for creating eldridge horrors was what led to the untimely demise of the greatest leader Irk has ever known before or since, but Dib's existence proved she got better. Zim was at a loss for how that worked out, but it was best not to scrutinize total surrender, as the saying went.

Did Dib even understand how utterly important this rivalry was? Probably not. Zim could hardly expect him to. As much as Zim liked to delude himself that Dib was more Irken than human, he knew that was a lie. His internal biology, his organs, Zim knew to be human. After all, Zim had acquainted himself very thoroughly with human biology, not long ago. Well, not long ago for Zim at least. Zim knew Dib could at least understand the finer points of Irken animosity- he saw the hate in the other's eyes, saw the joy during their fights. But he wasn't sure if Dib grasped exactly what those feelings meant. Humanity was as much a cultural state as it was a genetic one, Dib had been right about that, even if he didn't phrase it very well.

Zim found himself pacing around his lab, contemplating the enigma that was Dib. "I just don't get it, Gir," he said to his android companion. Gir listened to his master's ranting as best as he could while sucking on a Cherry Swordfish Slushi.

"It's  _obvious_  to anyone with a brain that our rivalry means as much to Dib as it does to  _Zim,_ " Zim slammed his gloved hand on a nearby countertop. "So why is he so  _opposed_  to even the  _idea_  that we're on a more even playing field?"

Zim let groaned dramatically. "Shouldn't he be  _honored_  to be more evenly matched with Zim?"

Gir didn't quite comprehend what his master was droning on and on about, other than the fact that it had something to do with their friend. "Uh-huh," was all he could think to say in response. While Gir had been  _listening_  that didn't mean he was paying attention.

Frustrated, Zim banged his head on a wall before turning towards the elevator. "I'm going upstairs," he said.

It was all a mystery to Zim, really. Irkens cared for few things. First, the empire. Second, themselves. And third, if they were very lucky, their nemesis. Irkens expressed animosity in different ways. More scientific minds would work to see who could produce bigger and better technology, who could come up with the most breakthroughs, who could take the best care of their successful experiments. Had Zim known of Miyuki and Membranes relationship, he could have easily identified it as this more scientific rivalry.

Then there were the soldiers, the grunts who were more than happy to use brute force to get their way. Irkens who were wider than they were tall were more likely to take this approach. For all Zim spouted about being an Invader, he certainly wasn't a front-line sort of Irken. He was a tactician, a planner, an inventor, and a pilot. Give Zim lab access, and he could easily create the most destructive weapons in the known galaxy. Give him a tablet, and he could easily plot out what would bring about the most destruction.

Let him actually lead anything, however, and you were asking for trouble. Operation Impending Doom I would have been much more successful had the armada simply used the battle plans Zim drew up rather than letting him anywhere near the front lines- Zim was overzealous, and impatient. He wasn't level headed and calculating like Tak or Skoodge.

From an Irken perspective, he matched very well with Dib. While Dib was excitable, he actually thought through the implications of most of his actions. He couldn't invent things from scratch the way his dad or Zim could, but he could improve upon them in ways no one would expect. Miyuki was right to see a tactician in Dib, because efficient planning was what he was good at. He could think on his feet easier than Zim, but he was more predictable and less of a loose cannon.

Their strengths and weaknesses meshed beautifully, in such a way that after each fight they both came out stronger. A proper rival challenges his nemesis, always. And Dib did just that for Zim. Zim needed time to plan, but Dib could think on his feet in a way that Zim couldn't always compensate for. Conversely, Dib wasn't much for thinking ahead, and his fights with Zim taught him to plan at least a little rather than making things up as he went along.

Zim had a special talent for biological weapons, while Dib found his niche in reverse engineering and repairs. They meshed, and moved as one, to the common goal of the other's destruction. As far as Irken romance was concerned, and that's using the term loosely, if your nemesis died by your hands, they weren't worth it. If they died by someone else's then you were a shitty enemy for letting your rival succumb to someone who wasn't you.

Zim had these feeling for Dib for a long time. He wanted Dib to improve or die trying. He wanted Dib to challenge him in a way no one, Irken or otherwise, has ever been able to. Dib was powerful, a force to be reckoned with, but he was  _Zim's_  force. And while Zim was needlessly destructive at most times, he was confident that Dib would stop him, every time.

Zim had the advantage in that he knew how to define his and Dib's relationship, and Zim  _knew_  what he wanted out of it. To be the most formidable pair of rivals in all Irken history. Poets of lesser species would write ballads of the destruction caused to anyone who interfered with their great hate. It would be an animosity the likes of which no one had seen before, if only Dib would let it.

Dib, for his part, was confused by the foreign emotions swelling inside him. He knew that he wanted Zim dead, but he also knew that if anyone else touched Zim he would kill them without a second thought. The very idea made him shiver. He  _hated_  the thought of hurting anyone, but the thought of someone taking Zim from him was too much. Zim was his and that's all there was to say on the matter.

One day, during a slow shift at the Video Outhouse, Dib found himself ranting to Matthew about it.

"I just don't get him," he said, as he angrily restocked VHS tapes. "He has  _no_  right to just charge into  _my_  life like that and start  _demanding_  things." He slammed another poorly preserved VHS onto the shelf.

"Uh-huh," Matthew said, trying his best to sound attentive. Honestly he had no idea how to comprehend Dib's relationship with the short green kid. He'd seen the two of them in the hall at Skool a few times before he graduated, and they always did nothing but bicker. They both seemed happier for it, though, so he supposed their relationship couldn't be all bad.

"And then he has the  _nerve_ ," another VHS was slammed on the shelf, "to say I'm not even  _human_!" Dib knew that wasn't  _exactly_  how it went down, but it was close enough.

Matthew sighed. "Listen, Did," he started, as Dib paused in his rage fueled restocking. "If the green kid bothers you that much, why don't you just break up with him?"

Dib raised an eyebrow, too shocked to say much else.  _Break… up?_ Understanding hit him like a sack of bricks, "Wait, you don't think," he waved a hand, gesturing wildly in the air, "that  _he and I?_ " The idea was so ridiculous that Dib started laughing. "We're not  _dating,_ " he said.

Matthew rolled his eyes. This kid was in serious denial. "If you say so," he mumbled.

Dib stood up, having finished restocking the much too large VHS section of their store.  _Seriously, who even still uses VCRs anymore?_  "I mean," he began, "Does it  _look_  like we're dating?"

Matthew began to count off on his fingers. "You hang out every weekend, he visits you at work, you have obnoxious pet names-"

" _Pet names?!"_  Dib interrupted.

"Space boy?" Matthew supplied dryly, before continuing, "He's all you talk about at work, and before I graduated I'd always see you giving him moon eyes from across the cafeteria."

"Those were death glares!" Dib protested.

"The point still stands," Matthew said, "One of you's got it bad for the other. All the upperclassmen at Skool could see it last year," he lazily plopped down on a stool behind the counter, "and it's pretty obvious that nothing's changed. You should probably figure out what you want."

Dib groaned in response. He knew Matthew was right. His coworker's words stuck with him for the rest of the day, until he was lying awake that night, staring at the ceiling.

_What_ do  _I want,_  he thought. He wanted to beat Zim. But he also wanted Zim to stop being so… beatable? Weak? He didn't think Zim was really  _weak_  but he knew Zim could do better. Dib didn't know  _why_  he felt that way, but he did.

Before Dib learned the truth about his parentage, it was times like these that he wished he had a mom-figure he could talk to. There were so  _many_  times Zim confused him, but his dad was never around for him to talk to about it, so clearly his deceased mother was the next best thing. Maybe she  _would_  understand just what was going on, but in this case it would only be because Dib wasn't normal.

Dib didn't want to be different. He spent his whole life with people calling him insane or crazy; all he ever wanted was to be normal. To fit in. But now he wouldn't. Couldn't.

It was a dangerous line of thinking, one that only ever crept up on him in the dark of night. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with being different. Perhaps he truly was better. But what did that  _mean?_  What made him better than anyone else? He couldn't say.

Maybe, alien or no, it  _would_  be best if his mom was still around. At least then Dib would understand what was normal and what was just plain crazy. He couldn't tell if his thoughts were a result of his hybrid status or unstable mind. He was thinking too much, he couldn't sleep like this.

With a sigh, Dib pulled out his laptop and accessed the Irken database. Lately, whenever he felt upset, he would spend the night memorizing the position of documented planets, and notable life forms on each.

It was cathartic, in a way. Learning about the strengths and weaknesses of other species helped him to forget his own. Sometimes he wondered, if he had to make a list, what would the strengths and weaknesses of humanity be?

Well, as far as weaknesses went, they were stupid, for one. As well as stubborn, annoyingly so. It was probably human stubbornness that helped Zim fly under the radar for so long with his paper thin disguise. Once everyone got it in their head that Zim was human, there was nothing anyone could do to change that. Zim could literally barge into his neighbor's house undisguised, and they wouldn't bat an eye at it or think anything more than  _there goes that weird green kid again_. Dib knew that his neighbors had seen him out of disguise at least once, but they didn't think anything of it. Their own unwillingness to see anything they didn't want to see helped preserve Zim's illusion of humanity.

As for strengths, humans were kind, and impulsive. It made them unpredictable, which was an advantage when facing off against an enemy who was organized and methodical. An enemy much like the Irken Empire. Their stubbornness could also be counted as a strength. Humans certainly never gave up, even in wars against themselves where no one won in the end.

Tendency to fight themselves, that's another weakness. Give humanity long enough, and there won't be anything left to take over. If Zim really wanted the earth in ruins, all he'd have to do is assassinate a few political leaders and point a finger at the other guy. Surely he realized that, right? It was just so  _obvious_  in Dib's mind.

Before Dib realized it he was nodding off in front of his laptop.

"Must be more tired than I thought," he mumbled to himself. With a yawn, Dib closed his laptop, and promptly passed out in his bed.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the prose got a bit too purple here. Lemmie kno if you agree so I can watch out for it next time. With some basic world building out of the way, I feel more comfortable thickening the plot next chapter, so there is that. Also, is the POV switch nice and smooth, or is it too jarring or confusing? this is easily the longest fic ive ever written so far, and all my others this is about the point where my quality went kaputz cause i ran out of steam, so that's something i wanna watch out for.
> 
> also shortest chapter so far, but i felt like gettin those couple hundred extra words would be forcin it more than i was already.


	5. dib talks to himself a lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF CHAPTER THREE HAS BEEN EDITED to make everything flow nicer. Just the last paragraph. Check it if you haven't already. Or don't. SHRUGS

Dib woke up at 5 am on the dot. This was not an unusual occurrence. Ever since he started 6th grade, he would wake up at 5 am without prompting. At first, he would shrug and go back to sleep, but soon he found it impossible to. Eventually, he just gave in and started getting up at that time. It never mattered how late he stayed up the night before, as soon as it hit 5 am he was awake and there was nothing he could do about it.

With a groan and a sigh, Dib got up out of bed and set his feet on the floor. It was Thursday, thank god. He wasn’t sure he was quite ready to deal with Zim yet. He tried to skip out on last week’s truce night, only to be dragged to Zim’s base by an all too enthused little robot. He and Zim ate in an awkward sort of quiet, both ignoring each other in favor of paying rapt attention to Gir’s idol chatter.

The little robot was thrilled that his two bestest friends were giving him so much attention; he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was only getting attention so the two boys didn’t have to address each other.

“So not looking forward to tomorrow,” Dib muttered as he stretched and clambered out of bed. When he stood up, he arched his back and it let out a satisfying pop, before he returned to his customary slouch and shuffled off to the bathroom to complete his morning ablutions.

He showered in the evenings, so all there was to do in the morning was brush his teeth and hair, and wash his face. His hair easily popped into it’s usual style with little prompting, something he was never quite able to figure out.

Once he was done with that, he returned to his room and schloomped down at his desk. He didn’t have to leave for school for another two and a half hours, and he could already feel the last vestiges of sleep leaving him. May as well continue poking around in the Irken partition.

His computer was still haphazardly shoved onto a corner of his bed. With a firm push against the wall, his chair slid across the floor over to his bed, where he retrieved his computer. A bit of awkward scooching later, he was at his desk, computer open.

With the partition officially decrypted, it was much easier to get into. All it required was a pre-programed  voice command and fingerprint scan during start up. As the computer booted up, Dib placed his right index finger on the track pad in preparation for the scan, and spoke up, “Access Maternal Partition; Authorization Code Zero One Eight.”

It always felt a little weird saying that. Maternal Partition. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t change the command word. Shortly after he accessed the partition, the computer made him record the command word for the purpose of voice print verification.  He tried recording other words and phrases, but the AI on this computer was too advanced for that to work. Every time he accessed the partition he was reminded  that he wasn’t as normal as he’d like to believe.

“Access Granted,” the computer intoned. “Welcome, Dib of Miyuki and Membrane.”

That was another thing he didn’t quite get. After establishing himself as an authorized user it always called him Dib of Miyuki and Membrane. Not just Dib Membrane or even Dib Miyuki Membrane. He wasn’t stupid; he knew his middle name was Miyuki spelled with Irken script, he had checked his birth certificate himself in the county clerk’s office when he went to pick up his social security card for his job.

“Alien’s aren’t real my ass,” he muttered, thinking about his dad. He used Irken Script on official paperwork and expected Dib to believe he thought aliens weren’t real. But he was getting off topic here-

Why would the computer bother with the two superfluous articles? Dib sighed. He supposed that would be a mystery for another day. He really prefered not to think too much on the startup process of the partition. It made it harder to pretend he had just cleverly hacked into data on Zim’s base. It served as a tangible reminder that Hey! This isn’t actually alien data! Because guess what? You’re an alien! Dib did not like being reminded of that at all.

He poked around on the desktop for a little bit before throwing caution to the wind and clicking on a random information file. Dib did this a lot when he wasn’t researching anything in particular.

“Interesting,” he muttered as he scanned the document.

“The Infinite Energy Absorbing Blob,” he read aloud, “was an abomination created on Vort Research Station 9. Originally designed as an organic super weapon to devour power cells of enemy ships, the IEA Blob was mutated from its rather benign state into a grotesque abomination that was responsible for the supposed deaths of two tallests and countless more civilians.”

Dib blinked and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Huh,” he said. “Interesting.” After another moment’s pause, Dib continued where he left off, “The scientist  responsible for introducing the catalyst to begin the IEA Blob’s transformation was never identified, however considering this incident took place shortly after my mentee’s arrival I can only assume he was at least partially responsible.”

Dib tapped his chin, processing what the file just said. He reached over and grabbed a notebook off his desk and began to add to the notes he had taken earlier. Computers were nice and all, but nothing beat good old fashioned pen and paper when it came to research. At least, that’s how Dib felt about it. He scribbled the name of the article at the top of a blank page, and began to write down his observations.

“Use of first person indicates article was written from the first person,” he muttered as he filled the page with his scrawl. His handwriting was atrocious, but he could read it and that was all that mattered.  Under that he speculated on who the author could have possibly been. Miyuki??? That was the most likely option, considering she apparently built this entire computer.

“Explains why it has the same operating system as Zim, at least,” he mumbled. He really needed to stop talking to himself, but he figured there was no harm in doing it in his own room.

Before Dib knew it, it was time to officially start getting ready for school, which meant getting dressed and gathering his things before he went out the door.

There wasn’t much for him to do in that regard, he simply slid on a pair of clean pants and a t-shirt before shrugging into his favorite trench coat, and upgrade from his childhood one.

He grabbed his phone, two cameras, a Membrane Tablet, and a voice recorder, which he shoved into various hidden pockets he had added himself, and then packed up his computer into his backpack and running downstairs.

His boots waited for him by the door, and as he slid them on he shouted a “By Gaz, I’m leaving!” up the stairs. She was still only in 8th grade, and Middle Skool started half an hour after High Skool. He didn’t wait to see if she dignified that with a response, choosing instead to dart down the walkway and towards the educational facility.

He was about one block from his house when he heard his phone ring from the confines of his jacked. A few awkward turns later, and Dib had successfully wrestled his phone from the innermost left hand pocket. “Hello?” he answered, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hey, Did, this is Matthew,” said the voice on the other line. “Is this a bad time?”

Well that’s odd, thought Dib. “No, no, it’s fine. I was just on my way to skool…” he trailed off. It wasn’t like his boss to be calling him this early. Usually Matthew would at least wait until after skool if he needed something from Dib. “What’s up?”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Look, I’ve got some bad news,” he began. Dib didn’t really like where this was going. “The bossman just called and said that if we wanted to make it in under budget we’re going to have to let someone go and since you only work part time…”

Dib sighed and mentally braced himself. He knew what was coming before Matthew even finished. “...We’re going to have to let you go.”

“Alright, that’s fine,” Dib replied. It just figured he couldn’t even keep a part time job. Oh well, at least Zim wasn’t responsible for him getting fired.

“Sorry, Did,” said Matthew, “Bossman’s orders.”

“Don’t worry about it, Matthew,” Dib wasn’t really too torn up about the news, but he wasn’t exactly pleased with it. “It was nice working with you.”

He could almost hear Matthew relax on the other end of the line. “Stop by anytime, though, ok?” Matthew said. “I’ll let your boyfriend’s dog use my employee discount.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dib muttered indignantly. Matthew was a genuinely good guy, so Dib couldn’t really be mad at him.

Matthew didn’t even acknowledge Dib’s denial. “See you around, Did.”

“Bye, Matthew,” Dib said. The call ended with a click on Matthew’s end, and Dib shoved his phone in his outermost right hand pocket.

Dib stared up at the overcast sky as he continued on his walk. “Well that was a great way to start the day.”

Losing his job was unfortunate- it meant he’d have to find some other way to occupy his time after school. “Suppose I could put more work into saving the earth..” He mused out loud.

Dib wasn’t too keen on that idea though. The only reason he even got the job was so he could keep his mind off Zim and feel more normal. Working on “Saving The Earth” projects usually involved directly countering Zim’s “Destroy The Earth” projects, so working on those would involve both thinking about Zim and not feeling normal. Which wasn’t something he really wanted.

He kicked a discarded can of poop cola into a gutter and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Maybe I’ll just tinker with some of Dad’s old projects.”

Now there was an idea. Working on REAL SCIENCE would at least make him seem more average, at least as far as his father was concerned. It might not be enough to keep his mind off Zim, but it was something. To be fair, not even his job at the Video Outhouse had been enough to keep his mind off Zim. Maybe that’s why he was the first to be let go, he was so distracted all the time.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Dib and Zim exchanged the usual insults and hate notes throughout each class while their peers ignored them as per usual. To Dib’s great amusement, Zim earned himself a detention that day by screeching at a bee that flew into their shared english class.

“Zim, that is the last time you disrupt my class,” the teacher had said. “Detention, after school. Today.”

During his walk home, Dib smiled fondly at the memory. Zim didn’t know it, but he had been the one to open the window to let the bee inside. He saw it bumping against the pane and couldn’t resist- he knew Zim had a weird phobia of the insect. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Besides, Dib had reasoned, Zim needs to toughen up a bit if he’s going to keep living on this planet. He’s not going to get anything done if he flinches at something as insignificant as a bee.

Dib was once again one block from his house when his phone rang for the second time that day. It had remained in his outer pocket, so retrieving it wasn’t as much of a hassle as it had been this morning.

“Hellloo?” Dib said. he really had no clue who could be calling. He doubted it was Matthew again- you don’t get fired and then rehired in less than 12 hours, after all.

“Hi there, is this Mr. Membrane?” Said an all too cheery voice on the other line.

Dib sighed. They were probably after his dad. Very few people realized that Membrane wasn’t actually his last name. In fact, Dib wasn’t sure he even knew his dad’s last name. Weird. “Yes?” he hazarded. If they were calling him asking for his dad, it was probably because his dad put down his phone number instead of the company’s. Which meant it was probably for something at least moderately important.

The woman on the other end cleared her throat, “This is Ms. Ellie, from the middle skool. I’m calling about your daughter, Gaz.”

“Uh-huh,” Dib figured it was best to go along with it. Dad probably put Dib down as Gaz’s emergency contact because in the event of an actual emergency, Dib would be able to help Gaz easier. “What about her?”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that Gaz didn’t show up for skool today.” Ms. Ellie paused as though thinking up a tactful way to accuse the daughter of the most beloved man in town of playing hooky. “Is she feeling ok? I heard pig-flu is going around this time of year…”

Dib coughed, “Right right, nooo,” he looked around, hoping his surroundings would help him come up with an excuse, “She just came down with a terrible case of, uhh,” a convenient pigeon landed in a tree, “HEAD PIGEONS, she has head pigeons, terribly sorry. Won’t happen again, goodbye.” He hung up before Ms. Ellie even had a chance to respond and sprinted the rest of the way home.

When he got to the front stoop, he unlocked the door, and stormed inside. “Gaz!” he shouted into the seemingly empty house.

“Gaz?” he tried again after getting no answer. Weird. It wasn’t like Gaz to skip skool. Classes? Yes. But an entire day? That was unusual. If she had felt sick, she would usually call in herself. Their dad had left them pre-recorded messages for that very purpose.

Hesitantly, he began to climb the stairs. “Gaz, are you ok?”

When there was still no response, he made his way over to her room, and gently knocked. “Gaz?” Worry began to crawl its way into his gut. She would have at least told him off about being loud by now, right?

“I’m coming in,” He announced. Carefully, he opened the door, hoping to avoid her security system or any incoming projectiles. Hey, at least he announced his entrance. She couldn’t say he surprised her.  

“Huh,” he said as he surveyed her empty room. Sure enough there was no Gaz in the bed, and her room was only slightly more disorganized than usual. That wasn’t that surprising, considering she had just gotten a new game a few days ago and had yet to beat it.

Dib decided to try calling her, in case she went out. Maybe something happened to her on the way to school? With practiced ease, he punched her number into his phone, and after only a brief pause it began ringing.

To Dib’s surprise, and slight dismay, he heard Gaz’s phone ringing from it’s charging station on her night stand, under a few gaming magazines. Just to be sure, he entered her room and pushed the magazines aside. “Damn,” he whispered. He picked up her phone and pocketed it after ending the call on his end.

So his sister hadn’t shown up at skool, and didn’t have her phone. This was weird. “Well,” he sighed, “No use worrying about it now.”

Dib meandered back downstairs to the living room. The only odd thing about Gaz’s absence was that it was unannounced. She had gone missing for a few days before, for a gaming competition, but she had left a note for Dib and told the skool she had pig-flu. There wasn’t anything taped to the front door, and the fact that the skool called him meant Gaz hadn’t contacted the skool herself.

“If she doesn't turn up by Sunday, then I’ll worry,” Dib announced. He had a standing agreement with his sister that if either one of them went missing, then the other wouldn’t worry until they were gone for 72 hours. Usually it was Dib who was gone, caught up with Zim in one hairbrained scheme or another. Dib never actually had to bail Gaz out of anything because she would always, always leave a note. But hey, there was a first time for everything, right? Right.

In the mean time, Dib figured he may as well continue on with his normal plans for the evening. Since he didn’t have a job to go to anymore, he would have to occupy his time with something else, and there was really nothing better to occupy his time with than SCIENCE.

He practically skipped down to the lab, taking the basement stairs two at a time. Had he been younger, he might have slid down the banister, but he was above such childish things. (And besides, he was a bit too tall to be able to do that comfortably now).

The lab itself was constantly lit by the dim glow of emergency lights, and various experiments. On the rare occasions that Membrane worked down here, he would turn on the main overhead lights, but Dib prefered it this way. Bright lights never really agreed with him, anyway.

“I wonder why Dad never uses this place,” Dib said as he meandered along the perimeter of the lab. Dib himself had never spent much time in the deeper parts, but it seemed like his dad was the same way.

“All this space, and he never seems to go more than 10 feet in.” He paused at the edge of the used labspace. Filing cabinets and boxes of old inventions and paperwork seemed to form a wall between the little space Membrane used and the rest of the lab. Dib peered out of a gap between a filing cabinet and the wall. “I wonder what he keeps back there, anyway.”

Deciding he had nothing to lose (and nothing better to do), Dib carefully angled  the filing cabinet just enough for him to slip past. He didn’t want to risk upsetting the precariously stacked boxes, and pushing the cabinet forward the way he did would make it’s movement slightly less obvious than if he had moved it to the side. He knew logically that his dad was rarely down here, but that didn’t mean Dib wanted to risk getting caught snooping.

Then again, was it really snooping? Membrane never specifically told Dib not to go into this part of the lab. It was simply implied by the physical barriers erected around the lab space.

Dib’s eyes quickly adjusted to the slightly darker portion of the lab. There were no monitors or blinking displays from idoling inventions to help supplement the emergency lights, but it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.

“Wow,” Dib muttered as he took in the space. There was a lot more of it than he was expecting. There was at least 400 square feet of space, though not much of it was being used.

There was an abandoned lounge chair, and various discarded inventions scattered throughout the place. Beakers, dusty and unused, sat on various counters along the perimeter of the lab. Dib noticed an open space surrounded by tools and welding equipment. “I wonder what Dad was working on…” It looked like whatever project once sat there was hastily removed, probably shortly before Membrane abandoned this portion of the lab. He pushed a stray wrench with his foot before moving on.

Even though there wasn’t much here, Dib found it absolutely fascinating. This section of the lab was also much purpler than the part his dad used. It sort of reminded him of Zim’s base, but he quickly banished the thought.

He turned his attention to a blue print rolled out on one of the back counters. He let out a low whistle. “Wow.” The diagram was complex, and written entirely in Irken script. “This is a ships schematic!” he realized.

But it wasn’t one Dib had seen before. For one thing, it was slightly bigger than the Irken runners he’s had experience dealing with, but it didn’t seem suited for an atmospheric landing. “An escape pod, perhaps?” he wondered.

It would make sense- a lot of the Irken empire was space based, so an escape pod wouldn’t have to deal with atmospheric conditions. Just get to the nearest Irken outpost and you’re good to go. It would also be a lot more cost effective.

Dib’s eyes roved over the schematics, mentally dissecting the ship and how it worked, along with ways to improve it. “I suppose with a few modifications it could be capable of atmospheric take off.”

He gave the diagram one last look before moving on. He wanted to finish looking around before getting too involved in anything. “I’ll just come back to it later,” he told himself.

There were lots of things to look at, too. Locked cabinets, strange machinery, heck one of the things even looked a bit like the stasis tubes in Zim’s lab. “Weird,” he said as he ran a finger along the glass.

It was in the backmost corner of the room, and was small enough to fit comfortably on the counter, unlike the massive floor to ceiling tubes he’d seen at Zim’s base. “Wonder what it was used for.”

Probably to grow something, or store a small creature. At least, that’s what Zim used his for. Not far from it were even more blueprints, which Dib was more than happy to take a look at.

“Huh,” he instantly recognized what these were for. “PAK schematics.” He recognized a lot of the information from what he’d gathered from Zim and Tak’s ship. Some of the components he even had first hand experience with, thanks to Zim.

It was starting to become more and more clear why his dad blocked off this part of the lab. “Must’ve been where Miyuki worked.” He sighed. “Where Mom worked.”

Dib couldn’t really deny it any more. It was one thing to have a letter on his laptop tell him his mother was an alien. But this lab, this was evidence of the truth of that claim. There was no way his dad couldn’t know about it- he blocked it off for a reason, after all.

If the stuff in here hadn’t meant anything to Membrane, then Dib knew he would’ve gotten rid of it. “Mom’s Lab,” Dib tested the words out on his tongue. They weren’t as out of place as he thought they’d be. He nodded. It felt right. “Mom’s Lab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the one weakness of this chapter is wordiness. When/If I finish this story, I'm probably going to go back and do some major revisions (because hopefully by that point I'll be a better writer, because yay improvement). But as it stands, I like where it's at.
> 
> ALSO NOTE: part 2b is up 'To End an Empire.' If you like tagr, then awesome, go look. Unless you like fluffy doe-eyed romance tagr. then don't look. The beginning of 2b takes place between chapter 4 and 5 of this fic. For the most part they're running parallel, but this is one of the few points where they'll criss cross, just a bit.
> 
> and again,constructive criticism is always welcome. im writing this because i needed hybrid kiddos like i need air, and ALSO to improve my writing skills, so there's that.


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